


Comfortable Ties

by Sneezysoul



Category: Portal (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, Sharing a Bed, TW on first chapter notes, but make it a multichapter(tm)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-02
Updated: 2020-09-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:53:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26255962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sneezysoul/pseuds/Sneezysoul
Summary: An experiment goes wrong in Aperture late at night, and some unresolved feelings between two men come to surface.
Relationships: Cave Johnson/Greg
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Fun fact: This was called "Carpet meat" for a really long time before I posted this bc I suck at titles.
> 
> Beta read by my bestie, Tigerclawblues! <3
> 
> (TW tags: blood, minor character deaths and animal abuse/death. Car wreck mention. Death mention. Time-appropriate homophobic mentions, but they're slim.)

  
  
  
  
  


It’s currently 11pm, his stacks of paperwork have finally been completed today, and he is about ready to put on his jacket and head off and up to the parking lot. 

He breathes deeply, stretching his arms in the air with a grunt, before placing his hands atop his head casually. Tonight had been slow going, what with corporate agents having investigated some of his new merchandise just the other day, all that had left him to do for now was to sign all the safe code and release papers. It was some foreign military corporation who’d been interested this time, and though he wasn’t too big of a fan of foreign armies taking his products...cash was cash. He’d already patented said products, and was perfectly willing to dole them out to those who’d pay well.

Aperture Science wasn’t doing so well when it came to cash. So what if some big company from the other side of the world offered him more than he’d asked for? Money was money. More money meant more experiments. In his books, more science was never bad, and one of these days he’s going to do a lot of good for the world. They’ll have his name on the big screen, some day, and he’s going to be in every history book.

That’s his plan. His memoriam. Though, really, he didn’t have plans to die any time soon - not when he’ll be thrust into an AI, receiving immortality through machines. He couldn’t wait for that day to come. He could see it now: “First man to become a machine!”

He was in no rush for it currently, though. Most of his funds have gone into military experiments and merchandise for now. He didn’t plan to go that route, but ever since he spent the last of their free budget on moon rocks, he had to cling to desperate preventative measures. Military paid everything, and sometimes even gave a tip for excellent service or for logos to be painted on. All in the name of business, really.

Their latest military experiments involved animals, though. He wasn’t too fond of going down to the labs in the case some of them were actually radioactive somehow. His scientists have been putting in a lot of work trying to mutate the animals enough to make some progress into ‘controllable monster’, but so far progress has been slim.

He’s not sure how much money they put into live rats, but if he has to sign yet another check, with Caroline looking rather glum over his shoulder, he’s going to just purchase a live trap and catch some himself. Caroline, ever since the moon rock situation, had been clutching at every dollar their company had to spare. She pulled so many strings just to keep this company afloat for him....he was impressed with her for saving so much during these times, really.

He...did feel just a bit guilty for spending so much. He just...felt so down, and figured, hey, if Aperture is going down because of the health department or whatever other government things coming after them, he may as well make something good.

And he did...and they patented and sold it off to the first company interested. Two million dollars for a bunch of bouncy goop, and the company hadn’t even realized that Aperture had  _ different kinds of goop _ . Cave was fully prepared to sell them the other variants as soon as they showed interest, because honestly? The money was  _ well  _ worth it. He had enough now to afford some more employees AND some new lab tech. Things were turning up, and it was all thanks to a bunch of rocks of “unknown origin”.

Looking at the clock, he stifles a yawn with the back of his hand. If he didn’t leave now, he might not be able to make it to work in the morning. He still had to write to the local health department and make sure they came in to investigate at a date he was willing to let them in. Which was a pretty hard thing to accomplish, Caroline kept telling him earlier when he’d insisted, since the health department’s speciality was uninvited visits and surprise inspections.

He wants to think that maybe Black Mesa had something to do with all the legal issues he has to face as well. He suspects a spy, perhaps. Or, well, he did before he practically purged all his old employees.

The only employees to survive his ‘test purge’ were those of the highest caliber. The ones who had more than just a master degree in what their job description was. Those he trusted well enough. He could probably hand one of his higher ranked employees his car keys and they’d probably still take a bus home.

He didn’t trust them as far as he could throw them, but he knew a lot of Aperture’s secrets were safe with them. If Aperture went down, they’d go down with it, due to the crimes they committed here for science. If anything, they worked just as hard as Caroline to keep the place running. All Cave had to do was sweep in every once in a blue moon, point to something he liked, and then slap a patent on it for mass production.

He knew that, this late, the only employees who were here were higher-ranking ones. Those who had the keycards to the emergency exits. They should be fine on their own, he knows.

Standing up, he ignores the popping of his knees as he goes to collect some important documents to take home for the night. He’d gotten into the habit of taking the ‘dirty’ papers home with him and hiding them in a safe ever since Aperture nearly died. He wasn’t going to risk some snitch getting a hold of all the lower-ranking employee’s death reports or something equally as disturbing.

He didn’t care much for the death reports, merely keeping them for statistical reasons, but sometimes when he felt overly anxious he’d look through them...it didn’t help him with his emotions at all, and he’s sure he just did it to harm himself on a mental level somehow, but he...always did it anyway, if the folder was nearby. One of these days, he likes to promise to himself, he’ll finally get the nerve to burn the folder and be done with it.

The hallway outside of his office wasn’t much for show, what with the beige walls and the dark wood floors. It looks just as old as Cave felt, and probably saw a lot of things throughout the years. Across from his office door sat Caroline’s office door, and further down the hall leading to the elevator were the offices of all his high-ranking employees, each office door in this hall had a sign depicting the name, company code number, and whatever else his employees wished to label. His own was merely “Cave Johnson, CEO”, but a few of these employees could’ve written a book.

Though, they had been with the company for so long, why not show off? It didn’t ruin anything. Caroline once commented on expanding her own little sign, even. He wonders if he could do the same without appearing  _ too  _ friendly to his employees. He had to keep up the tough boss act, otherwise nothing would get done around here!

Making his way to the elevator was nothing more than just a small walk. The outside appeared a bit rusted, he mentally notes, and he inwardly promises himself to remember to call in one of the lab boys to clean it up. Can’t have any health inspectors coming in here to see a rusted elevator. Aperture being closed down due to rust didn’t appeal to him. If Aperture were to go down it was going to be something better than that. (He hopes, of course, that Aperture passes the inspection clean as a whistle and without casualties.)

Pushing the little arrow-shaped button, he waits. The documents tucked under his arm felt oddly heavy tonight. The ticking of the elevator numbers did little to clear the silence at this time of night; perhaps everyone did go home? Perhaps he was the only one here so late?

As the elevator numbers count down, he can hear an odd noise, like a thumping. It reminded him of that one time Caroline threw an empty trashcan down the hall one night, just for fun. 

Though, the more he listened on curiously, the more he realized that the numbers on the elevator hadn't moved passed level 12 yet. Perhaps he wasn’t the only one awake tonight. Good. That meant he could just let the other guy or gal lock the place up. He was way too tired to go into the system room and click all those buttons.

Almost a minute passes before the elevator numbers start to tick down again. He probably should have thought more when he designed this place, but he always assumed that, should anything happen on the top floors, his office would be the safest. There was a lot of security, being so far underground. Plus, the air conditioning  _ was amazing _ .

Just as it counts down from 3, he begins to feel like something  _ might _ not be so right. 

The odd thumps and banging sounds really put him on edge. If someone decided to party in the elevator or something, he’s definitely not going to take too kindly to it. Though, perhaps it was just some light object that was thrown in there? A companion cube?

It hits his level, and before he can fully process it, the doors open and three scientists burst out, screaming. One happens to grab his sleeve and yank him back before -  _ one of the rat mutations? _ \- could swipe at him.

He’s running before he could even get a good look at it. A funny thing, what happens when your body senses fear in others, is that it doesn’t necessarily take the time to ask itself  _ what is going on _ . Autopilot, if you will.

He finds himself yanked into one of the offices, and slams the door behind him and the scientist. The scientist pushes at one of the file cabinets, and Cave joins in, effectively blocking the door.

A shrill scream sounds out followed by what sounds like a huge impact. Whoever that lab boy was, he’s probably going to need to be closely monitored later…..assuming he’s still alive, that is.

They both stand there in shock. The scientist was one of the higher-ups he’d hired years ago. Greg was his name, and Cave...might have been a little over his head about him. In an ‘I want to hang out with you’ kind of way, perhaps. Caroline used to tease him about it whenever Greg was around.

She always said Cave’s eyes followed the scientist around the room. Cave wasn’t sure how to think about that. Caroline had such a weird sense of humor, if she thought  _ that  _ was funny. He was Greg’s employer, of course he was going to watch the man’s progress...around a room.

And of course he was going to choose Greg’s well-made water converter over someone’s trashy wasp canon. Greg was an amazing man, and an amazing scientist...what wasn’t there to like? Of course Greg would get special treatment. Cave wouldn’t admit to choosing favorites, but if he had to, Greg would be one of the best scientists he could name.

As he’s about to speak up to the scientist, a loud screech coming from the hall halts him. He glances over the file cabinet and wonders if it’ll hold such a thing...it looked to be the size of a grown man, so he wasn’t sure. He also wasn’t sure of how much that thing could do.

Really, he  _ should _ have known everything about it, but it was such a small experiment...he’d figured the rats weren’t so important for his attention at this time. That rat would be a great weapon if you could train it, but at the moment it might have a taste for blood.

He felt odd thinking of it like that, but...you know what they say when an animal has a taste for blood. He feels even more odd when his next thought is “usually animals like that are put down”.

Perhaps it was his guilt tonight, or perhaps it was the heavy folder he still had tucked safely beneath his arm, but he felt some sort of odd kinship towards the rat. He, in a way, was just like an animal with a taste for blood. His first test subject lost, and he was already so far into testing and science he just couldn’t  _ quit _ .

He didn’t even need to see them die anymore. Was this his legacy? A trail of cold cases in his step? He swallows dryly.

To distract himself from the noisy animal outside, he turns his attention back to the Scientist, clearing his throat,“Greg,” he says, before gesturing with a hand toward the file cabinet blocking the door, “y’think this’ll hold?”

The scientist looks frazzled, like he hasn’t slept a wink in a day or so, from the looks of it. The glasses perched on his nose had square frames, and he sported an unshaven face. His hair was brown and curly, and his clothes had a few specks of blood on them. Whether the blood was from the rat or from someone, Cave can’t be sure yet. It made him worry just a bit.

The scientist takes a minute to meet his eye, probably just now realizing just who he’d saved, before nodding slowly, “It’s not at that stage of it’s mutation yet.” he speaks in a mumble, his words soft in Cave’s ears.

Cave found himself liking this scientist, if only because he wasn’t as loud and as fast as the others he’s met over the years. Scientists of Aperture are usually quick to pull on the ‘yessir’ mask, and while it was easy to work with, it made judging the workplace very hard to do.

Though, of course, Greg was fast enough to get them to safety, thankfully. Greg was a quick thinker, despite his looks, and Cave knew that by just memory alone that the man had five degrees total, with two masters. Cave had been so impressed by such a feat that he’d immediately hired Greg on the spot.

Caroline says it looked like his eyes lit up just seeing the man’s many science-related degrees; usually, it was required that he or Caroline go through the entire folder - from medical history, all the way down to highschool grades - along with the applicant, but just  _ seeing _ how many degrees this man had...it was insane. The man had to have been in school almost his entire life.

Cave admired that. He was never a school man himself, but he admired that this single man would go to school so many times...only to end up at Aperture. With Cave.  _ As his boss _ .

Cave had no idea whose office this even was, but from the looks of it, it looked like it might be Caroline’s. Which wasn’t too surprising, since everyone knew she left her office unlocked for Cave some days.

He’d spent so much time sleeping in this office when he had stayed too late. Caroline had been against him doing so throughout the years because of the rumors it’d started, but eventually she just...came to expect it. Cave knew there were blankets in the closet on the second shelf, and one pillow hidden in the safe behind one of her few portraits. Caroline was such a good friend, for doing such a thing for him, he realizes. If he ever died, he’d love to just give her all of Aperture. She could handle so much now, and he could wager she’d be amazing at running the company.

He’d have to run it through with her, though, just in case. He didn’t know what would happen by then.

“How long until it’s at that stage?” he asks, then.

Greg shrugs his shoulders, “about twelve hours, if it doesn’t somehow die by then.”

Cave hums thoughtfully, “why was it in the elevator with you?”

The other man looks sheepish, “Martha kept the elevator open for Charles.”

Uh huh... _ that _ explained it. That must mean Charles was on the 11th floor while Greg and Martha were coming down the elevator for something. The 11th level was the live animal labs, so it only made sense. If that rat decided to tear up the place, Charles was going to be the one to blame! 

“Sh-should we call someone?”

Cave nods, considering the question, “We should probably call Caroline. She remembers the clean up crew’s number.” She seemed to know everyone’s number, if he’s going to be honest. Caroline was like some giant business-running machine. She really knew how to do things.

Also...he may or may not usually get into situations like this. She understands that bad luck is just part of his life, and she has told him in the past that if he ever needed her to give her a call.

He moves over to Caroline’s desk, briefly acknowledging the warning stickers stuck on her desk. She had a funny fixation with stickers, but he wasn’t one to judge...if he had the chance, he’d go for it, too.

The phone is one of those ones with the keys too big. He always hated phones and keyboards that clacked everytime you pushed a button, but for now he’s just going to have to deal with it. As soon as he dials her number, he leans against the desk, fingers of his free hand tapping against it in a nonsense rhythm.

‘ _ Hello? _ ’

“Hey, Caroline! We’re in a bit of a pickle and I need you to call the clean -”

‘ _ That’s great! _ ’

Oh...He always got tricked by her prank voicemail. He huffs, not feeling the usual amusement he’d get at it.

‘ _ Please leave a message! _ ’

At the beep, he repeats himself, “Caroline. There’s been an accident, and I need the clean up crew called into the lower office area. ASAP.”

He clicks the phone back into the receiver with just a little more force than he’d wanted.

He claps his hands together lazily, “Bad news, Greg!” he says with mock enthusiasm, “we’re stuck here ‘til the clean up crew arrives.”

Greg lets out a quiet ‘oh’ at this. He looks Cave over for a second before his eyes gaze around the room. Cave doesn’t blame the guy for being curious; Caroline’s office may be what most new employees saw, but to see it again was rare, for them. Usually, if Caroline called in an employee twice, it was to fire them on good - or bad - terms. Or ‘promote’ them to testing. Whichever she felt like at the time.

She does, of course, run each employee through him. Some make the cut, but more often than not Cave found himself throwing them all into being test subjects. Why not? It wasn’t hard to hide bodies and evidence, and if they somehow manage to survive past the first two tests, they’re considered Elite Test Subjects...which isn’t much, but they  _ do _ get their own uniforms.

Not that he’d ever let Greg go like that. He was far too special for him to just toss away without heavy consideration. Greg had been a miracle scientist sent down by the gods or something, with how fast he could crack out ideas. If he didn’t have Caroline as his assistant, Greg would have gotten that job immediately.

He gently sets his folder on the table, and puts them under the phone. Greg wouldn’t be stupid enough to look at it if he knew it was put there for a very good reason.

Though, honestly, Greg probably already knew what the folder was for and he probably knew many of the people in it. He was one of the few scientists in charge of observing test chambers and the robotics they use inside them. He was the one who helped make those little turret robots...Cave had a fondness for those robots.

Cave stifles a yawn. It was so late...would Caroline even get his message tonight? He knows she usually has a white noise maker on. He hopes she heard the phone ring at least. He just couldn't for the life of him remember what the clean up crew's number was. Soon as this was all over, he was going to memorize it.

He takes a seat at her desk, chair rolling back about several inches at the added weight and his momentum. He was trying to keep himself awake. He doesn’t know how long Caroline was going to take, and he doesn’t know if the creature outside is going to suddenly become strong enough to break through their mini barricade or not.

Greg yawns into the back of his own hand, then. Looks like all the adrenaline from ten minutes ago just evaporated into thin air. The man looks dead on his feet, almost. He must have been working hard on something. Or maybe he was just a tired man overall. Cave finds himself feeling sympathy for the man. Such a hard worker shouldn’t have to be kept up by some  _ rat _ of all things.

Cave thinks again about those blankets. There were only two, one usually used as a sad excuse for a mattress. Maybe he could tell Greg about it. They could probably take turns to keep watch overnight or something. Though the possibility of the rat breaking into this room tonight seemed slim.

“Hey, Greg. Ya feelin’ tired?”

Greg looks quickly to him, likely surprised at such a question, “I am.” he answers simply.

Cave waves a hand to the closet on the other side of the room, “Caroline keeps some blankets in there. Could pull ‘em out and make a bed.”

“You don’t think she’ll wake up and call for help?” 

Cave laughs, “She’d sleep through an earthquake if ya let her!”

Greg makes an ‘mhm’ sound, before walking over to the closet and pulling out the blankets mentioned. Watching the man work was....okay. Cave felt a fondness about the careful way Greg handled the blankets, almost like they’d be ruined if he had tugged them out too quickly.

Or maybe that was just Cave’s mind messing with him. He did hold a soft spot for the other man. Caroline always reminded him of that soft spot every time she saw the two together.

“Are you planning to sleep, Mister Johnson?” Greg asks, then, as he unfolds the thickest blanket to lay it on the floor.

“Nah!” Cave says, “I was thinkin’ we’d take shifts every couple of hours of so. Bein’ eaten by a rat isn’t in my plans.”

Greg nods without even sending Cave a glance, “It probably won’t eat anyone; it’s in pain right now, so its only mission right now would be to escape.” he informs, unfolding the other blanket to put it across the other one on the floor.

“Huh.” Cave says. The more you know, he supposed. If the rat wasn’t really looking for a fight, perhaps sleeping in shifts wasn’t such a necessary thing. Still...two grown men sleeping together is certainly something he wasn’t too sure of.

Even if the man across the room looked....appealing, in his own dorky way. 

Cave wasn’t a fruit or anything. He...didn’t look Greg over earlier or anything! He was, in fact, totally and one hundred percent straight as a pole. When his employees looked at them, they saw your average respectable straight white man in a suit, ready for business.

The twinge of hurt he felt at that comparison was left unthought about. That was a problem for another time, he thinks.

“Is there a pillow?”

Oh...he’d been staring at the other man for quite some time now. He stands up slowly, ignoring the usual crackle of joints as he makes his way to Caroline’s hidden safe. Luckily, she didn’t have anything else in this safe save for an old resume she’d made before they made Aperture together. It was fine if Greg knew the code. Cave trusted Greg.

1-9-6-9, he puts in, not caring for the significance of such a date for Caroline at the moment, merely caring for the treasures inside the safe.

Besides, he barely remembers what that date meant to her. Maybe it was just random numbers. He couldn’t recall the meaning for the life of him. Caroline once told him in private, but he’d told her that her secret was safe with him...in the end, it really was, since he had forgotten about it.

He tosses the pillow to Greg, who catches it with a bit of fumbling. “There’s only one.” Greg notes.

“Yep.” Cave replies, “She only keeps these for emergencies” -  _ those emergencies being me _ , he wants to add, but stops himself - “so there’s only enough for one person.”

“And you wanted to take shifts?” Greg asks.

“Yeah. You know...just in case.” Cave confirms, feeling a little self-conscious about his decision.

Really, there wasn’t anything  _ wrong _ with sleeping with someone else in the same bed...heck, he used to sleep in caroline’s bed back when his first job became a bust and left him homeless. But sleeping in the same bed as a  _ man _ ...imagine what other people would say, if they saw him or heard of him doing so.

He could lose so much interest over it. He’d lose so many valuable customers and employees.

Even if the thought of laying in a bed with Greg wasn’t nearly so bad when he thought of it.

Greg, by this point, was already taking off his bloodied lab coat, hanging it on the coat rack Caroline owned as gently as he could, careful to keep the blood off of anything else. The blood was definitely someone else’s, which makes Cave inwardly sigh in relief. He wasn’t the best at first-aid, especially when it came to those he considered close.

His shoes were placed below the rack, pushed as close to the wall and as far out of the way as they could be. It was almost like how the man usually held himself, Cave mentally notes, as the man held himself out of the way just like that most days. 

Though, perhaps comparing a full-grown man’s personality to how he puts his shoes up wasn’t so smart or logical. It was late, though, and Cave figured that it’d be a small thought to entertain himself with while on his watch, maybe.

Though, that comparison did give him a sudden desire to pull those shoes out of the corner and put them in the middle of the room. He won’t, but it’s a small intrusive urge he felt, then, thinking about that. Greg shouldn’t have to hide away. He was a very talented man, and Cave has seen the potential Greg brings to the table on a constant basis.

“Are you taking the first shift, Mister Johnson?” Greg then asks, looking nervous. He seems so tired, sleep was probably the one thing on his mind he just couldn’t shake right now.

Cave grins, “Yeah. Y’look dead on your feet.” as he says this, he’s sitting back down at Caroline’s desk, “‘sides, I could do some of Caroline’s reports. I’ll be fine.”

When he receives no response after a minute, he quickly tacks on, “A-and you can just call me Cave.”

Greg hums in response, “Thanks, Cave.”

“Er…yeah. I’ll wake you in about two hours.”

When Greg lays down and makes himself comfortable on the makeshift blanket bed, Cave can’t help but let his gaze linger on the other man for just a moment longer...it was odd, seeing someone resting. In his opinion, anyway. He was so used to seeing people lively as could be until they died. It just felt...odd, seeing such a man like Greg down like that.

He always did have a bad habit of watching someone he sort of cared about breathe; maybe it was because of all the things he’d seen at Aperture. Maybe. The action was calming, at least, and he found himself breathing in time with Greg while he watched.

It takes him a few minutes to direct his attention away from the other man, and to Caroline’s small stack of papers. Her computer was far too loud to use, so he’d gone with the first quiet activity he could think of.

The reports weren’t much at all, and he knew for a fact that Caroline always kept up with them every day and only left a few for the next. For her to leave a stack of even this size was odd for her. 

She did have a rough day, from what she told him on the phone earlier that afternoon. One of her cats got into the room she held her plants in and she’d had to call in the carpet cleaners and try to scoop all the dirt back into the pots somehow. Not to mention even earlier than that, when one of their employees had tripped and spilled coffee on her skirt.

So, really, he couldn’t blame her for leaving so much undone. Maybe by doing this for her, she’d buy him a drink later to call it even. He always did enjoy going out to drink with her. She always had something good to say, and was never afraid to speak her mind on either business or personal life. And she also wasn’t afraid to confront him on some things.

She was the one who could wake him up from any slump he got himself into, so far.

Well ...besides some other people. Greg could be someone like that, really, with how often the man and him met up. Since Greg was a high-tier scientist, his hours were quite flexible, and so Cave could always feel better about inviting the man out for a coffee and whatnot.

Greg would sometimes be Caroline’s delivery boy, too. She’d often send Cave small gifts through Greg or small letters and stuff. Greg obviously knew Cave and Caroline were best friends. Cave remembers Greg knocking on his office door just a few days ago, a bouquet of roses and a little card with a little poem written in it.

It wasn’t something he had expected from Caroline at all. Roses and flowers were for girls. He’d tried talking with her later about it, but all she did was ask him if he’d thanked Greg for them.

Cave didn’t know how to answer that, or even why Greg giving the flowers to him deserved a thank you, so at the time he’d just turned the conversation to something else.

Man...he wishes someone would come up to him with flowers like in some old love show. It was a little weird receiving them from Caroline. She was like his sister, at this point, and he definitely did not think of her in a relationship kind of way at all.

Greg did look a little sad when he asked what the flowers were for at the time, though. He remembers giving one to Greg and telling him to ‘give it to his lady and she’ll understand’.

Of course, later that day he found out Greg was  _ divorced _ . Caroline was both fuming and laughing when he’d told her about his experience with the other man. She’d told him he should apologize. Cave probably  _ should  _ apologize for the roses. He had no idea the other man was divorced.

He sighs, picking through the reports lazily. It’d been about twenty minutes, and he’d spent most of it thinking ...typical, for him. 

The reports stop him in his tracks, though. More death reports and finance reports...these weren’t his favorite to look at. Signing accident reports and deciding ways to hide evidence of accidental deaths wasn’t his specialty at all. Caroline was only so good at it because she...was Caroline. Caroline could do many things when she set her mind to it.

He places them all back into a stack with a yawn. It was a little after midnight, from what Caroline’s wall clock told him. He’d never stay up this late unless he was drunk off his ass. He felt ...tired. His eyelids were pretty heavy, and as much as he tried to stop them, they’d slip closed.

Looking at the other man across the room on the floor, it suddenly looked very appealing.  _ Why not _ , he asks himself,  _ it’s just Greg, and the rat won’t come inside any time tonight _ .  _ Surely he could indulge, just this once? _

His previous objections to sleeping on the floor with the other man were drowned out by the weariness he felt then. The floor looked comfortable, the desk looked comfortable, and at this point in time perhaps even huddling in the closet was comfortable to him.

Another intrusive thought came to him, then:  _ No one will see him sleeping with Greg. _

And, really, no one will. Greg would keep a secret if asked, Cave trusted, and no one would be able to open the door with that cabinet in the way. There were no cameras in here, and there was no one else here.

“Hey,” he calls out, voice sounding sleepy, “you awake?”

A mumble, and the other man shifts in the blankets. Greg sits up sluggishly, rubbing at his eyes. He looks odd without glasses, but man...what a charming look.

Cave shakes himself a moment to beat the thought out of his head -  _ that was a man. Shut up. _ \- he clears his throat, trying to get the sleep out of it, “Y’think...d’you think I could...sleep down there with you?”

Greg, after rubbing the sleep from his eyes, squints over at him, before immediately flopping back down again, “Sure.” he says, voice thick with sleep, “there’s s’me room.”

Cave doesn’t need any further prompting, standing up from the desk chair slowly. His legs feel heavy, and he kicks off his shoes at the same coat rack as before, tossing his blazer on the rack, mindful of Greg’s lab coat. He finally goes down to the floor, pulling the blanket over himself.

The blanket was just a bit small. He had to turn his back to Greg to use it...they were very close. It was strange. Even when Cave slept in Caroline’s bed back in the day, they’d always had separate blankets and the bed always had a pillow in the middle separating them just in case. This? This was...very small compared to that.

Feeling the other man’s body heat against his back wasn’t so bad, though, he tiredly admits to himself. If he’s honest, he could get used to this. This closeness. And with Greg, of all things.

Greg wasn’t such a bad guy; he looked  _ amazing _ , had the best jokes, and could whip out some fun inventions if you just asked. Honestly, Cave should have spoken to him more in the past. He kind of regrets it. Maybe he could rectify it by asking the man if he was willing to see a movie with him later. Movies always brought people closer.

“Sorry for taking the blanket.” Greg mumbles.

It takes Cave a few seconds to get what he’d said, but when he does he huffs, “It’s alright. It’s small.”

A few minutes of silence comes between them, and Cave finally has the nerve to close his eyes. His body relaxes almost immediately, ready for the rest it deserves after such a long day.

He can feel it now, the light tingle of sleep. Oddly enough, he didn’t  _ want _ to sleep, his mind kept going on and on and -

Something  _ cracks _ outside, forcing his eyes wide open, putting him on alert. Greg must have been in the same predicament, reaching over and putting on his glasses. The only beings in this room was the two of them, and nothing looked out of place save for the portrait Cave had moved earlier. The lamp’s light doesn’t even flicker.

“I...I think that was the thermostat outside.” Greg says.

It sounded like it could be. All the other offices should be closed right now, and the only thing in the hallways other than the elevator was the thermostat box.

“Why would it go after that?” Cave asks. 

Greg sits up, and Cave shivers at the loss of heat, “Maybe it’s trying to chew through the walls?” Greg asks, though his question was directed at no one in particular.

Cave yawns, “Thermostat’s on the other side of the hallway. I don’t care ‘bout it.”

“You should,” Greg says quietly, slowly laying down. He’s facing Cave, now, from what Cave could tell, “it could have easily messed with the thermostat. It might have changed the temperature.”

Okay...so that was a problem. Cave sighs, “what can we do about it? Ain’t no way I’m going to head out there to fix it.”

“I think it’s been changed for a while,” Greg shifts, trying to get enough blanket to cover him again, “didn’t you recognize the temperature dropping? It woke me up before you did.”

Cave didn’t actually, but now that it was mentioned...he did, in fact, notice it  _ very  _ much. Before, his blazer was the thing keeping him nice and warm, but now, after a short time he’d been laying here, he suddenly realized with a start that  _ damn, it’s chilly down here _ .

“Huh. It is.” Cave says, reaching to rub at his arm. He had a sweater and a blanket, but even those didn’t beat the chill so much. It’s true that hard floors were the coldest. He’d have to convince Caroline to get carpeting put in here later... Just in case.

Perhaps he was just so tired when he went into the covers he just didn’t notice at all. He had a funny thing of not noticing the obvious sometimes. It was a running gag between him and Caroline.

“We could…” Greg says, with a slight shiver, “w-we could share body heat.”

When Cave turns over and looks at him across the pillow, Greg stammers and mumbles around a bit, words lost to Cave.

It wasn’t a bad idea, yeah...but Cave wasn’t too sure about it.

A chill reminds him that maybe it’s not such a bad idea after all. Greg is looking like such a warm person at this moment. A heater.

“ _ Could _ we?” Cave asks. From the way Greg looks, perhaps Greg had taken it as sarcasm.

Cave repeats himself, “Could we?” he says, again, this time trying to keep any tone in his voice out. A clean, simple question. He wasn’t going to suggest what they do. At this point, he was scared.

He, Cave Johnson, CEO of Aperture science, was  _ scared  _ of this. He didn’t know what he wanted right now. He both wanted to sleep on the other side of the room, as far away from this man as possible, but he also wanted to stay, and wrap his arms around said man.

He also wanted to tell Greg how important he was to Cave. He wanted to tell Greg that they should hang out more later, or they should go to the movies together, his treat. Cave wanted to tell the man he actually  _ did _ listen to Greg’s weird lectures, and he did, in fact, listen when Greg shared something with him. Cave had read through Greg’s file a hundred times over, wondering just...how to start  _ this _ ...whatever this feeling he had for the other man was. This feeling, which left Cave feeling happy for no reason at all whenever he thought of the other man. This feeling, which made Cave daydream of just...hanging out with the other man.

Cave can no longer tell himself he  _ didn't _ want those wants. Here he was, a tired, cold man, and there Greg was, a tired, cold man. And Cave...just happened to like Greg. Not like the way he liked Caroline, but much so that the thought, and action, of laying here, in this makeshift bed with Greg, didn’t cause him much alarm as it would have if it were anybody else. In fact, it felt rather comfortable here, alongside the other man.

Though, he did, of course, wish those thoughts would just  _ go away _ . He was a man, and Greg was a man. It just...wasn’t going to happen, and if it did...he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to  _ let himself _ have such a thing.

He was afraid of it. Of having something like that. He’d liked Greg for a while - maybe about three years, now - but he should  _ really _ get his thoughts right. Greg was just...a friend, right? Just a friend. That was all.

“I-I would like that.” Greg mumbles, far too quiet to hear if Cave weren’t paying attention.

Cave opens his arms slowly, uncertain. Greg just as slowly moves to him. The embrace is awkward and shy, but it was...oddly right. It felt right, in that moment. Cave had never been hugged like this. He’d never been held like this. It felt so  _ right _ .

Honestly, if he knew Greg wouldn’t freak out if he did, he’d probably cry because of how good it felt to hold another person like this. His heart pounded with the action they were committing, and for the first time that night Cave felt fully awake.

Greg tucks his head under Cave’s chin, “this okay?”

“Yeah.” Cave says.  _ Better than okay _ , he wishes he could add on.

Pretty soon, Cave finds himself melting into the contact. His sleepy body finally catching up with him, pulling Greg close.

Cave wishes he could have such a closeness every night. That’d get rid of all his sleep problems, maybe. That’d be the best. He had a king-sized bed, too, so it’d be totally possible for this. It would be less lonely, laying in such a large bed every night, if he had Greg to hold.

Sadly, he wasn’t sure if Greg would ever be up to something like this again. This was probably just a one-time survival thing.

If Caroline were here, she’d be laughing at him, probably. She had a funny sense of humor.

Greg, as if just remembering, reaches up to take off his own glasses. He sets them on the floor a ways from the top of their heads before settling in again. 

It’s comfortable.

It’s amazing.

It feels  _ right _ . Probably the most right Cave has ever felt. He felt warm….he felt safe. Having Greg in his arms made him feel comfortable in a way he never had been before. He could feel every shift Greg made to get himself comfortable, and he was completely fine with it. He was fine, here, with this man wrapped in his arms. The cold he’d felt previously had nearly vanished underneath such a warm hold they had on each other.

Greg hums, sleepily, “thank you.” he says, before burying his face into Cave’s sweater. An odd action, but it made Cave’s heart skip a beat, and he felt the corners of his mouth twitch into a smile.

_ Thank you _ , he wants to say back, but he doesn’t, if only because he can tell just how exhausted Greg is. The other man sinks into him, almost, and Cave wondered if, all this time, Greg had been awake.

He felt  _ okay _ . For once, tonight, the heavy folder sitting on Caroline’s desk didn’t cross his mind. The rat in the hallway wasn’t much more than a hindrance, now, barely making a sound. He didn’t feel bad for anything, at this moment. He just felt...warm. The man he held in his arms...brought him a comfort and sense of  _ right  _ he’d no idea he’d been missing before. It was such a new thing to him, but he...loved it. Holding someone like Greg in his arms, trusting the other man with this kind of thing...it sparked something in him that, for the first time in forever, he didn’t immediately despise. He didn’t recoil mentally to this feeling as much as he’d thought he would, and he was perfectly okay with that.

Greg mumbled something else, but Cave felt distracted by this new sensation to properly catch what was said. Cave feels the other man shift, before tossing an arm over Cave’s side, getting himself comfortable. Cave loves the weird flutter in his chest after Greg had done so. He’d never be able to simply forget this, he knows, and he wonders if he’d even want to try and forget this.

It was so easy to forget things, for him. He was the master at forgetting things, even if they were important. He had a special skill for just ...consciously choosing not to memorize something. He wonders if this time, he could reverse that. He wants to remember this. If he could never have this feeling again, he was going to remember it, and every little thing about it, from the weight of Greg, to the hard floor beneath their blankets, all the way to the slight tickling of his nose from Greg’s hair. He wanted to remember it all.

He wanted to remember the way Greg’s breath evened out against him, the man finally lost in sleep, and he wanted to remember the soft glow of Caroline’s desk lamp. He wanted to remember everything about this, now, if only because he’d never be allowed to do this again. All the way from the quilted blanket they lay on, to the slight tangle of their legs that’d happened at Greg’s efforts to get comfortable, he’d wanted to be able to visualize everything later.

And damn it, he wished he’d paid attention earlier when Caroline told him how to learn photographic memory. It would have done him some amazing good, right now, in remembering this.

He yawns noiselessly as he can. He wants to stretch his legs out, but just knowing he would wake the other man up makes him rethink.

It was almost two by the time he decided that he’d had enough, being awake for this, and enough excitement for today. 

His mind was finally calming down, and he’d seized the moment as soon as he mentally noted all the little things he could note. Sadly, he’d likely forget most of this in the morning, but for now, he lets himself relax, and closes his eyes, letting himself be lulled to sleep by the quiet breathing of the man in his arms.


	2. Chapter 2

  
  


Johnson had called her last night, telling her about some accident that had occurred. She had been so tired, with it being near midnight at the time, that she’d completely forgotten to remember the number that came across her caller ID. She had been so tired, she’d ignored the call completely, just expecting it to be a status report on some new tech Cave had commissioned.

She knew it was from the company building, but calling Cave’s office had given her no results, and calling her own office number was out; she’d blocked her own home number just the other day to mess with her mother, who’d been cat-sitting for her and had called one too many times.

Johnson not answering her calls was ... _ strange _ . He at least made an effort to answer her as soon as possible. He hadn’t answered any of the lines she’d called that morning. Nothing came from calling all of the phones he used around aperture.

She ...was quite worried, to say the least. Instead of spending her extra two hours that morning to play with her cats, or take care of her many plants, she’d rushed to shower and make the calls she’d needed to make. She had arrived to work about an hour after waking up at six this morning. So, right now, it’s about eight or so. She hadn’t bothered watching the clock on the way here, expecting the worst out of things - which was, in her opinion, pretty much the only way to deal with Johnson’s antics sometimes.

But now that she was here, and she knew the problem had been solved and no sign of her boss, she began making her rounds, taking notes of the damages and mentally cringing at some of the costs.

Her pen clicks closed as she looks over the mess in the animal labs. The incident last night made such a wreck, with a mutated rat taking two of their low-tier scientists with it. Three were injured from the ordeal and had left for the hospital last night, and one went missing. 

Lucky enough that, on the job application papers, there was a lot of legal jargon she’d shoved in last-minute when they were made saying that no injuries from animals will be accounted for. As for the deaths? Well...there wasn’t much for her to say about them. They all go missing, she makes a few alibis and witnesses, then the problems remain a cold case.

She hated actually seeing the messes of the deceased employees, but...every job came with a price, unfortunately, and hers just so happened to be recording and getting the company away with illegalities.

The rat was put down by the time she’d even made it to Aperture this morning, one of the cleanup crew she’d sent to do the job had already shown up to clean the waiting rooms early. She’d be sure to make light of that with Johnson later, just in case the rat was actually important somehow. The cleanup crew person in question didn’t have a weapon, and had decided that the most logical way of killing such a pest was to...suck it up in the vents using one of their highly-dangerous test chamber vacuums...it was a miracle the man had even been able to lift it, let alone suck the rat up with it.

Maybe she could give him a few brownie points later. He even managed to clean up most of the hallway before she’d come out of the elevator. Of course, now the entire cleanup crew was here, but ten minutes before it had just been him informing her on everything that had happened.

The labs were a downright disaster though. Lucky enough, the rat was in a secluded room near the elevator, so it didn’t bother any of their other animal subjects much at all. Though...the monkeys did seem out of it.

With the click of her pen opening, she scribbles her thoughts onto the notepad. She’d have the monkeys go through some tests to make sure they weren't cross-mutated somehow. She couldn’t take any chances.

She makes note of most of the equipment the rat - or the scientists here with the rat - had destroyed. The cost wasn’t going to be as bad as she thought, thankfully, but she’s still going to have to put the entire lab through various tests to make sure the rat didn’t leave behind any stray radiation or something else equally debilitating.

Why she stood here was beyond her. She’d very much rather be wearing something to protect her against anything wrong, but alas, all their spare hazmat suits were in need of cleaning today, and she wasn’t about to jump in one without it being properly cleaned. They had to clean them every Tuesday and Thursday for a reason, after all.

She sighs, the air feeling gross against the surgical mask she’d managed to snag from the upper labs just a moment ago. This stinks. She hated when accidents like this happened. They should really start posting regulations or rules on how long people can stay in the labs.

She scribbles that down as well. Maybe she could pour over some ideas for such rules during her morning coffee break. She’d bought pizza last night and had scrounged up enough leftovers to share with Johnson, and that thought cheers her up. Johnson wasn’t always so bright, but he believed in her and found her capable...he had been her friend since highschool, and, really, she’d be happy just knowing where he could be right now.

She tried calling him back once she’d arrived at Aperture. She’d called his house phone, his office phone ...heck, she’d tried her own office phone, and no one picked up!

Johnson rarely ever went missing without a good reason. One time, it’d been because he had snuck into Black Mesa and managed to steal some blueprints a while back...that was fun trying to cover up, but those blueprints did turn things around for their company.

A few other times were just...accidents, really. She remembers he’d gotten into a car accident the last time he’d gone missing, and she hopes she never has to go into the hospital for him again. She’d like her friend to never have to see that stinkin’ place ever again after all that.

It was worrying. But she knew Johnson was an adult, and he sort of knew what he was doing half the time.

She hoped.

By the time she’s done taking notes of all their lost inventory, she returns to the elevator, taking a napkin she’d had with her out of her pocket to push the down button. They said the remaining scientists had all ran to the lower offices hoping to shake the rat off their tail ...unfortunately, the rat had gone into the elevator with them.

Thankfully the cleanup was started in the elevator. She was kind of glad Johnson refused to have the emergency stairs go down so far. High heels were definitely not fun with stairs, and she couldn’t wait to get to her office so she could slip them off for a while.

If her office was  _ clean _ , that is. She didn’t know where the rat had gone during its rampage last night. It was concerning, but hopefully nothing too horrible happened downstairs. Her hand was cramped from all the writing she’d done on her way down.

The elevator doors open up, and she takes a step into the hallway. The cleanup crew had decided that the lower offices took more priority at the moment than the animal labs, and as such they were making their cleaning rounds, checking out anything that might need a scrub down.

She quickly takes note of how cold it was down there. Looking along the wall, she sees why; the rat must have chewed right through the thermostat, setting it to a much lower temperature down here. 

She wishes she had brought a cardigan with her that morning.

Looking over the hall, she scribbles down notes about the claw markings all over the wall nearest her office. She also makes sure to note that some of the carpet around the elevator was chewed up. 

She wasn’t going to step in the way of the cleanup crew just yet, though, so she makes her way down the hall toward her office. She remembers closing her office last night, and she hopes that it prevented the rat from making itself at home there.

Twisting the doorknob, she pushes -

Though, the door didn’t even budge. She hears a clang on the other side, as if something had fallen over.

Was there...someone in her office?

Releasing the doorknob, she wraps against the door with a closed fist, “Hello? Is someone in there?”

A thump from the room gives the answer way before the person on the other side says, muffled, “I’ll be right there, Caroline.”

She frowns, clicking her pen closed, “Mister Johnson. Have a late night?” she asks, keeping a formal tone in the case one of the cleanup crew hung about. Did Cave get stuck in her room because of the rat? He said he was heading home late...perhaps he just never made it to the elevator.

That was a relief. That meant he’d been safely tucked into her room. Maybe he even barricaded it with one of her file cabinets. 

Though that doesn’t explain one thing, she thinks, as she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, mindful of the pen in her hand, “I called my office number earlier to check on you. Why didn’t you pick up?”

A few shuffled noises and what sounded like something heavy being moved is all she hears for a few moments; she’s patient, though, and sometimes it took Johnson a little while to answer some things.

While she is idly fixing her ascot, the door slowly opens with a slight creak. In it, stood Johnson, looking bedraggled and drowsy, as if he’d just woken up. His sweater underneath his blazer looked wrinkled, and his hair was pointing in odd angles that, on any normal occasion, he’d have never let happen.

All in all, he looked like he’d just rolled out of bed. Even the slight smell of sweat could tell Caroline just as much. Cave never let himself go in such a way, let alone sleep in...but she could guess the rat had kept him up. Who knows. 

“Hey, Caroline! Morning.” He says, voice a bit heavy with sleep. He leans against the doorway oddly. Caroline found it instantly unusual for how he usually acts almost immediately. 

Glancing past his shoulder - what little she could see past, anyway - she can just make out a head of brown hair and her heart nearly skips a beat.

“Oh, uh...yes, that’s Greg, before you ask.” Johnson says, moving more into her line of sight.

“Why is Greg here? He usually leaves at nine.” Caroline says, voice lowered. She clips her pen to her clipboard, deciding that whatever  _ this _ was was more important than taking notes at the moment.

“He, uh,” Johnson clears his throat, “he stayed late last night. We had some rat trouble. I let him sleep in here and I - uh - took the chair. I did some paperwork for you, by the way.”

She nods, “Mhm...the rat is taken care of, mister Johnson.”

“Ah, yes ...yes, that's ...good. That is very good. Good work, Caroline.”

Caroline raises an eyebrow. She gains some satisfaction at the sheepish way the man looks at that; she knew something went down, if Johnson was so unkempt so late in the work day. And she knew that he knew she suspected something went on.

Just then, the air conditioning is turned off, finally being worked on.

She wonders, then, just how Cave could have kept warm during the night...it was awfully chilly. Caroline might end up using an office upstairs for a few hours until someone fixes the thermostat because of it. If she wasn't wearing her long-sleeved dress shirt, she’d have surely been shivering.   
  
She was surprised there wasn’t frost on any of the stray file cabinets she’d passed just to walk here. Though, perhaps it was so chilly in here because it was so far underground.

“I have a few suggestions about regulations and an idea about a new emergency number for you to call.” she says, keeping up her professional air. Greg mumbles something from inside the room she doesn’t seem to catch, but she makes no comment on it. 

Cave looks just about as ready to jump into a vat of tasteless pudding right now than to talk about things with her, she thinks. Looking over him, she knows he’s not fully there, just fresh from sleep, and that he was in no way able to show himself to the scientists whose work had been halted for the day for a short briefing.

Sighing through her nose, she gives him a smile, “We can discuss it later. Perhaps you two could go to your own offices, though? I need my space.”

Cave stands straighter, then, no longer leaning against the door frame and no longer hiding the other man inside the room, “Oh. Yes, of course! I’ll…” he slowly shimmies his way past her, fixing up his blazer as he went, “I’ll just ...be in my office!”

With that, he hurriedly takes off to his own office, mumbling plans to himself and kicking aside some stray thermostat pieces lying about.

A cough catches her attention, and she turns her gaze toward Greg. Looking down to the lab coat he usually wore, she frowns at the stain of blood there. Greg seemed perfectly fine, but before she could ask about it, Greg gives her a tiny wave in greeting. He looked...far better, compared to how Johnson had looked. In fact, he looked rather pleased, in a sad way.

She knew, though, that Greg really loved Johnson. Perhaps Cave had said something to the man last night that made the other man feel bad. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time.

Flowers...dinner dates...it seemed that everything Greg would pull out would be instantly ignored by Cave. The last idea, roses, had only ended with the man being too distraught to come to work the next day.

She feels like nothing short of Greg actually coming out to tell Cave his feelings would get a reaction. Though, of course, the man was far too shy to just outright tell his own boss how he’d loved him for so long.

Caroline wasn’t exactly sure why, but...she’d been trying to get the two together for a while. Perhaps...perhaps last night they had a moment without her urging at last?

“How’d it go?” Caroline asks, moving aside as Greg takes a step out into the hallway.

“It was okay.” Greg replies, “Nothing...nothing happened.”

And this, she knew, was  _ almost  _ true. The body language of this man was saying something she couldn’t entirely tell, but one thing was for sure: Greg looked lost.

Greg was barely, if ever, lost. Not when it came to Johnson.

“Everything going to be okay?” she whispers, just loud enough for only him to hear.

“No. Maybe.” He shrugs a shoulder.

She nods, but as she goes to gently push past him and into her office, his voice stops her; “Johnson doesn’t feel the same way.”

Her heart clenches. She knows that’s not true; Cave had always talked highly of Greg for years now...he’d gone out of his way to make Greg feel special. Like he was someone.

Just as she turns back to say all this, Greg is already down the hallway standing in front of the elevator.

She feels cold as he steps into it, but now it wasn’t necessarily from the chill.

_ These men _ …

She shakes her head, trying to knock her thoughts out of it before she did anything irrational. She was Caroline, and Caroline made plans and strategies. 

As she closes her office door behind her, she is already forming a plan, though a rather bold one without a set course of action, it was a plan nonetheless: Talk to Johnson.

She reaches her desk almost on autopilot. Her picture covering her safe was still down, but the blankets and pillow had been put away, thankfully.

Just as she’s taking the unworked paperwork and taking note of the new clients she needed to call this morning, she spots the heavy folder beneath her office phone, the edges worn by use over the years.

She sighs, carefully tugging it out.

Johnson had a strange obsession with counting these people.

Perhaps this time she can just not strategize for a moment with this one. She tosses it into the shredder bin uncaring. Whether or not she’ll dig it out of the loose paper later is up to how she feels, and that is perfectly fine by her.

Her paperwork from yesterday wasn’t completely done, but it was enough to give her more time to think things through. This was a whole new ballgame, to her. 

Right now, there were more important things to worry about, she felt. And those things involved her two friends actually making a damn move - a  _ good  _ move - onto something probably better.

Greg didn’t seem like the sort to just...give up. What happened last night to make him feel like that? What did Johnson do?

...She could take Cave out drinking tonight maybe. Maybe out to dinner again at that old pizza bar they used to go to when they played hookie in highschool. She could open up with her ideas, and...smooth it into Greg territory.

She could do this. She was Caroline, and by all things holy, her boys were in love, and she was going to help them realize it sooner rather than later, this time around.

She may have promised Greg she’d never tell, but...she was Caroline.

And by God was Caroline one of the most headstrong women of this world.


	3. Chapter 3

“I hope that rat experiment of yours wasn’t important,” Caroling says, gently putting down her glass of wine, careful of knocking it hard against the table between her and Johnson, “one of your cleanup boys made a mess out of it.”

Cave, who’d just begun his second glass of beer that day, hums with a shrug of his shoulder, “we’ve got others. Hopefully no dummy decides to grab one out in the middle of the night.” he then takes a quick sip of his drink and clears his throat, “I prefer my rampaging rats during the day.”

Cave uses the fingers of his free hand to tap quietly against the table to the beat of the bar’s music; they’d been waiting for their pizza for about ten minutes, but they both knew the wait was well worth it. Piano man, which was the song that’d been playing, wasn’t one of Caroline’s favorites, but she could appreciate it for what it was.

She nods, “I’d rather have it not happen again entirely.”

"Hate to break it to you, but the chances of that are slim."

She hums in agreement, just as the waiter arrives with their meal. She exchanges the usual talk with the waiter before the woman walks off.

The only thing Caroline appreciated about this place was the waiters, really. Aside from the nostalgia. The waiters always seemed to know when they were needed.

Johnson is digging into the pizza before Caroline can even reach for a slice herself. She wasn't a fan of pepperoni, but just this once she could ignore her distaste. She had more on her mind than pizza, anyway.

“And the monkeys in the animal testing room looked odd. I believe I mentioned them to you on the way here?” She asks, plucking a slice from the pizza and placing it on her napkin.

“Eh. We’ll get new ones.” Cave says over a bite of his meal, “b’sides, if they mutate, we’ll have even more experiments for the C-12 case. Killer monkeys? What madman  _ wouldn’t _ want that?”

Ah, there’s the Johnson she knew and loved. While the idea sounded awfully silly when told like that, Caroline knew Cave made a lot of sense here: Mutated, angry monkeys would most likely sell to someone out there. Maybe they could even alter their looks. Make something ‘exotic’.

She nods along, “That’s a swell idea.”

Just as she is about to take a bite from her pizza slice, Cave clears his throat, clapping together his hands as to get the seasoning from the pizza crust off his hands, “Have you figured out the expenses for what that rat destroyed?”

“I did,” she says after swallowing her bite, “it’s nothing bad; a few broken computers and some vials. The only thing of major concern was the rest of our experiment stock.”

“Ah. Anything fifty bucks could handle?”

“Oh, be realistic!” she replies, earning herself a laugh from the other, “It’ll probably be about two fifty at the least. Though I’m sure you’d want to do a thorough search through the ranks in that lab department?”

And by “thorough”, she really meant “anyone who broke the posted regulations about having extra hands on deck when handling a vicious animal”, but she knew that Johnson got what she meant, by the sly grin on his face.

“Already handled; I had Greg go through that paperwork for me. He used to work in that department, so he’d know who to dump.”

_ Oh _ . She could use this opportunity, she notes with a pleased hum to herself. 

“So...about you and Greg.” she merely states, as if bored.

Cave looks as if he’d choked, sitting up straight in his chair, shoulders no longer a relaxed slack, “Wha….what about ‘em?”

She lets the question linger for a moment, enjoying her slice of pizza, and knowing that her continued silence on this subject was a key into getting the man to open up more - she knew him, and she knew just the right buttons to press.

She takes a sip of her drink, then wipes her hands off on her napkin.

“Caroline?”

“You were both in my office.” she explains, then.

“Oh.” He simply says.

Oh, indeed.

She grins behind her napkin as she wipe her mouth clean on it, watching his little fidgets - they weren’t detectable if you didn’t know him, of course, as he was ever the businessman when he wanted to be, but she’d known him since they were children, and she knew every single one of his quirks very well.

She was, quite honestly, a very observant person when she put her mind to it.

And right now she was ready to find out just what went on last night, and she had just the tools to get her information.

“We were just...y’know. There was a rat outside.” he says.

“Uh huh?” she prods on.

“And we just...well.” he glances to the side, “It was midnight, I think. And you have bedding in there.”

“And you slept on the office chair?” 

“Sure did! Was the worst sleep of my life!” He says, quick to take her bait.

“Ah. So I assume the reason why Greg had been feeling so...down afterwards was because he was guilty of taking the bedding?”

“Why, yes! - Wait...he was feelin’ down? Why?” Cave asks, clearing his throat once more, “did he get divorced by someone else?”

“What? No!” Caroline says, exasperated, “He hasn’t been in a relationship for quite a while, Johnson!”

“Then who pissed in his cereal? Was it one of the lab boys? Did he get sick?”

She sits back in her seat. She exhales a quiet sigh to herself. All this concern, and yet he just couldn’t put two and two together after all these years.

“Cave,” she says, then, just a bit tired of this, “I’m not asking this as your business partner, I am asking this as your friend; Did you sleep with Greg last night?”

Cave sputters, face flushing at the insinuation, “No!”

“Not like  _ that _ !” Caroline says, “did you both sleep on the floor? What did you do to him?”

“What did - what did  _ I _ do to  _ him _ ? What do you mean, Caroline!” he yells, quiet along with her own yelling; this wasn’t necessarily a quiet, private pizza bar, after all, “I didn’t do anything!”

“Nothing at all?  _ Nothing _ ?”

Cave frowns at her, quieting himself down, “what happened after I left, Caroline?”

Well.

This conversation wasn’t going anywhere she was comfortable with.

Guess she had to be a bit blunt, now, as much as she hated being so, especially to her long-time friend.

“To be frank, Johnson, the man adores you.”

Cave hummed a confused note, arching an eyebrow, “tons of people adore me.”

“You mean all those mirrors you keep in your bathroom?” 

“Hey!...They’re modern style.”

“Anyway; the man likes you.” She lifts a hand before he could speak, halting him, “ _ Likes _ you, Cave.”

At his silence, she merely takes to eat her slice of pizza; she can let that sink in for a moment. Johnson wasn’t  _ that  _ hopeless when it came to figuring things out for himself once the cards were on the table.

“Uh...likes?”

Chewing, she nods quickly, refusing to emphasize it further.

“He...he likes me? Like...like a friend or...a boss?”

She takes her time chewing, feeling just a bit of a loss that her little chat didn’t exactly go where she’d originally planned; she’d planned to get Cave’s opinion on it first, but...well, better to get it over with. Like ripping off a bandaid.

He waits for her to finish, playing nervously with his sleeves.

“I think he likes you more than a friend.”

Johnson falls silent after her admission, the picking of his sleeves all but forgotten. He adopted a strange far-away look in his eyes, and she wondered if perhaps this was big news to him; perhaps this was the wrong thing to say?

She takes a sip of her drink, studying him further. 

Just then, Johnson turns in his seat and takes a stand with a quiet grunt, “Ah, look at the time. I should head home….thanks for uh….the talk, I guess.”

“Mister Johnson,” Caroline says, using her no-business tone of voice, “You came in my car. You can’t just walk home.”

Cave pauses at that, before chuckling, “Oh, yeah! I did, didn’t I?”

Upon returning to his seat, she gives him a pointed look. “We don’t have to talk about this if you need to think, Cave.”

For once, his usual overly confident self looked softer at that, his grin from a second ago gone, replaced with a sincere expression, “I appreciate it, Caroline.”

As they continue eating their meal in silence, Caroline just remembers another thing she’d wanted to bring up to her friend:

“I  _ do  _ happen to have a few suggestions about regulations and an idea about a new emergency number for you to call,” She starts, “We can discuss that.”

She smiles at the exaggerated groan Johnson lets out at that.


End file.
